The Curse of an Imp
Disclaimer: I own nothing. If I did, then the events of the end of Series 2 would never have happened that way. Ever. Once Upon a Time and all related concepts belong to Adam Horowitz and Edward Kitsis.
Summary: What if Regina, in one act of humane kindness, had been unable to sacrifice her father and cast the curse? What if Rumplestiltskin had sacrificed something very dear to him to cast it? What if the curse had created other effects too?
Thanks to xXxKaraBeckerCutterxXx - who is awesome - for being my beta, for suggesting some of the ideas in this story (and letting me use them) and for helping me plan this story.
Extra Info: Belle is back with Rumplestiltskin - I will explain how as the story goes on in a "In Fairytale Land: Flashback" mode.
Chapter One: Pilot
Once Upon A Time
There was an enchanted forest filled with all the classic characters we know.
Or think we know.
One day they found themselves trapped in a place where all their happy endings were stolen.
Our world.
This is how it happened...
Prince Charming, cloak flapping in the wind and clutching the reigns of his steed, spurred the animal on through the falling snow; it thundered blisteringly across the landmass stretching between the ocean and the forest where his true love had last been sighted. He couldn't help but smile at the thought of her.
The smile was soon wiped from his face as he found his path blocked by the Seven Dwarves and a glass coffin. The ring, which had been enchanted by Rumplestiltskin, glowed brightly, indicating that his True Love was close. Charming felt his heart stop beating, he slipped from his horse and run the rest of the way towards the coffin.
"You're too late," said one of the dwarves; spectacled, bearded and wearing a red hat, it was Doc, though Charming did not know this, who had spoken. The Seven Dwarves were stood, stoically and silently, around a glass coffin intricately crafted from a white leaf patterned pane of glass.
"No!" breathed Prince Charming, staring, horrified, down at the occupant inside. "No!"
Snow White, dark haired and pink lipped with her hands on her chest, slept soundly inside.
If anyone had looked at her they would never have guessed that she was under a sleeping curse, damning her to sleep for all eternity unless awoken by true loves kiss.
"Open it," ordered Prince Charming.
"I'm sorry," protested another dwarf, this one very grumpy looking, black haired and wearing a neckerchief. "She's gone."
Prince Charming's head fell, sad and defeated. Teary eyed, he stared up at the grumpy dwarf. "At least let me say goodbye."
The dwarves looked to each other and, united once more for their love of Snow White, heaved off the lid.
Prince Charming knelt down. If this was to be his goodbye kiss, then both he and Snow were going to know that. He lowered his head to her face and pressed his lips to hers, kissing her with all the love his heart held for her.
As he did so, a wave of energy exploded from Snow White and soared across the land making it brighter and lighter than it had been since her enchanted slumber had begun.
Snow White gasped, her hazel eyes blinking open to reveal a beaming Prince Charming.
"You," she smiled, cupping his cheek affectionately. "You found me."
Stroking her head with his right hand and holding her arm gently with his left hand, he asked. "Did you ever doubt I would?"
"Truthfully?" she asked, as he helped her to sit up. "The glass coffin gave me pause."
"You never have to worry," he assured her. "For I will always find you."
"Do you promise?" she asked, as he stroked her hair affectionately.
~~~The Curse of an Imp~~~
One. Two. Three. Four.
Rumplestiltskin counted the stitches in front of him as he made the edits to the curse. First, his darling Belle would be safe; second, she, like him, would remember on hearing the name of the saviour, third, he would not have to give up Belle's heart - or any heart - just something more special to him than anything else in the entire realms; fourth, he and Belle would, unlike in this world, be married.
Marriage.
He paused, almost whimsically, and mused over it; he and Belle had intended to be married, but Belle had agreed - after he had informed her as to why he needed magic - that travelling to this new world to find his son, Bealfire, was the most important thing.
"Is it ready?" asked Belle, approaching him from behind; he swirled around on the stool to face her. She was illuminated in the moonlight streaming from the small gap between the currently closed curtains. She had long brown hair, a pleasing figure and a kind, smiling face.
"Yes, dearie," he said, holding it up with his familiar flourish. "It's done; when this curse is cast we will end up married in another land. A land without magic."
"Can you do it?" she asked, watching his reaction closely. "Give up three hundred years of using magic?"
"Yes," he assured her. "I must. For Bae. For you."
"The curse," she said, gesturing to the parchment in hand. "When will you cast it? Soon?"
"Not just yet, Belle," he replied, swiveling around on the chair so that he was facing the spinning wheel in front of him. "The time isn't right yet - no; the time will be right when Regina launches her final assault on Snow White and Prince Charming. When that happens, I will have this," he waved a hand, summoning a shining purple bottle, "put somewhere special - then, the curse will be activated by Regina - or if she fails, by me, using a second version - and we'll be sent to this other world... and I can find my boy."
"And, just how will I remember? I will not be hearing the saviour's name and you never mentioned what you were planning."
"Ah, well, as to that! Here's where my plan becomes delicious – and right under the Queen's nose too! Nyahaha! Quite simply, Belle, true love should tell you."
To anyone eavesdropping on their conversation it would have sounded like mere chatter; to them it made absolute sense.
~~~The Curse of an Imp~~~
"I do."
Prince Charming and Snow White stood together in front of a bishop.
"And do you, Snow White, promise to take this man as your husband and love him for all eternity?"
Snow White, her hair intricately melded into two large bunches and littered with flowers, beamed the brightest smile anyone had ever seen. "I do."
"I now pronounce you husband and wife."
Everyone burst into applause; the commoners, the nobility, the gentry and ever the dwarves. Doc, who had seen that Grumpy was not clapping, elbowed him and, a smile actually gracing his normally perpetual grumpy face, Grumpy began to clap along with the crowd.
Prince Charming and Snow White leaned forward to kiss, their lips inches apart when -
BANG!
The double doors burst open; Regina, tall, elegant and dressed in black, was stood in the doorway, smirking. "Sorry I'm late."
She made her way down the aisle towards her former step-daughter and her new husband. Two guards sprinted down the aisle to stop her and were thrown aside with a mere flick of Regina's wrists.
"It's the Queen!" cried Doc. "Run!"
"She's not a Queen anymore!" said Snow White as she unsheathed her husband's sword from the holster on his waist and pointed it directly at the most hated woman in all of the realms. Regina stopped, smiling incredulously at her former step-daughter's brashness. "She's nothing but an evil witch!"
"No, no," Prince Charming interrupted his wife, raising a hand to lower the sword. "Don't stoop to her level - there's no need." As Snow White lowered the sword he directed his next words at his wife's former step-mother. "You're wasting your time; you've already lost and I will not let you ruin this wedding."
Sword drawn, Prince Charming stepped in front of his wife, shielding her from Regina.
"Oh, I haven't come here to ruin anything," Regina was smirking, almost victoriously. "On the contrary dear; I've come to give you a gift."
"We want nothing from you!" snapped Snow White.
"But you shall have it!" interrupted Regina; she turned away, yet still remained looking at her, and then turned to face the crowd, circling as she did so. "My gift to you..." Regina sounded rather disgusted at the thought of giving someone who had ruined her life a gift. "...is this happy, happy day. For tomorrow, my real work begins! You've made your vows. Now I make mine. Soon, everything you love - everything all of you love - will be taken from you. Forever. And, out of your suffering, will rise my victory. I shall destroy your happiness... if it is the last thing I do."
And, her threat and gift both given and received, Regina whirled around, striding her way back down the aisle.
"HEY!" thundered Prince Charming. Regina whirled around to see his sword flying at her.
Smirking, she disappeared in a puff of smoke, taking the sword with her.
~~~The Curse of an Imp~~~
Henry Mills, brown haired, rather chubby and ten-years-old, wearing a black overcoat, black trousers, a button up blue shirt that strained a little around his tubby middle and a red and sickly green scarf to keep himself warm in the crisp October air, sat on a bus arriving in Boston; in his lap rested an open book. Prince Charming and Snow White, both staring, concerned and awestruck, at where Queen Regina had been, were on the page.
"That a good book?" asked the woman from the seat on the opposite side of the aisle.
"This?" he asked. "It's more than just a book."
Before the woman could reply, the intercom on the bus said their destination and the bus came to a shuddering halt, allowing everyone to get off. Henry, book now shoved into his grey backpack, looked around and spotted a taxi.
He knocked on the window and the driver lowered the window with the electric button.
"Uh, you take credit cards?" asked Henry, holding one up.
"Where too, chief?"
If the fact that a ten-year-old boy, with nothing but his clothes, a backpack, a book and a credit card, struck the driver as odd, he didn't say a word.
Today, fate seemed to be on the side of Henry Mills.
~~~The Curse of an Imp~~~
Across the city in a very fancy restaurant, Emma Swan, twenty eight, blonde, slim and very attractive in a form fitting salmon coloured dress, emerged from the elevator.
She made her way through the restaurant; several men ogled her, but she had no interest in any of them. The man sitting at the nearby table, however, was of interest to her; Ryan Marlow, originally from New York - where his wife and three children remained - was sat waiting.
Seeing her arrive, he rolled up his napkin and stood up, holding out a hand. "Emma?"
"Ryan?" she questioned, shaking his hand. "You look relieved."
"Well, it is the internet," he replied; she nodded in acknowledgement - many of her former online internet dates had been disaster due to lies and deceit from the people on the other end. "Pictures can be-"
"Faked? Outdated? Stolen from a Victoria Secret Catalogue?"
The fact that it was she who had offered up the ideas would, normally, have sent warning bells blaring in any normal man's head. Ryan, to Emma's relief, remained blissfully unaware of her true identity.
"So," Ryan began, linking his hands together and sitting down opposite her. "Tell me something about yourself, Emma."
"Oh, well, today's my birthday," Emma seemed disappointed with that fact, almost sad even.
"And you're spending it with me. What about your friends?"
"Kind of a loner," she replied.
"And, you don't like your family?" guessed Ryan.
"No family to like," Emma informed him; unlike the fact about her birthday, she did not seem sad nor disappointed, merely resigned to the fact.
"Everyone has family," he replied.
"Technically, yeah," replied Emma, conceding to his point. "And everyone knows who they are... ready to run yet?" she asked, wondering if the date was becoming a disaster.
Ryan scoffed, "Ooh, not a chance! You, Emma, are, by far, the most sexiest, friendless orphan that I have ever met
Both laughed, the ice and tension broken.
"Ok," Emma said. "Your turn. No, wait! Let me guess! You are handsome, charming-"
"Go on," he pressed.
"- the kind of guy who, now stop me if I get this wrong, embezzled from your employer, got arrested and skipped town before they were able to throw your ass in jail."
"What?"
"And the worst part of all this," continued Emma, "Is your wife. Your wife loves you so much that she bailed you out! And how do you repay that loyalty? You're on a date."
Ryan realised that Emma knew more than she should; his jaw straight and hard. "Who are you?" he asked.
She leaned across the table, unable to keep the smugness out of her voice. "The chick who put up the rest of the money."
"A bail bondsman."
"A bail bondsperson," she corrected; he laughed to himself and then, without even so much as a warning, upturned the table and ran, splattering wine onto Emma's dress, making her sigh. "Really?"
Ryan burst through the downstairs door of the restaurant and darted between the cars. As he did so, Emma emerged from the restaurant and followed him across the street; cars swerved and horns honked, but not one of them hit her.
Ryan whipped out his keys and electronically unlocked the door of his car which he wrenched open before diving inside. He started the car and revved the engine then put his foot on the accelerator; the car rumbled, but didn't move. Opening the door again, Ryan caught sight of the tire lock on his back wheel.
"You don't have to do this, ok?" he said, desperately. "I can pay you. I've got money."
"No you don't," Emma replied. "And if you did, you should give it to your wife to take care of your family."
"What the hell d'you know about family, huh?" he sneered.
Grabbing him by the shoulders Emma slammed him into the steering wheel, knocking him unconscious and setting the car off into a constant honk.
"Nothing."
~~~The Curse of an Imp~~~
Arriving home, Emma kicked off her heels and opened the paper bag that she had bought from the bakery. A cupcake with white icing sat inside; taking it out she put it onto the desk, and took one of the candles from drawer, placing it on top
Lighting it, Emma leaned down on her crossed arms and stared at the cupcake. "Another banner year."
She closed her eyes, making a wish, and blew out the candle. Seconds later, almost as if fate was laughing in her face, the doorbell rang with.
With a frown, Emma returned to the door and opened it. Nobody was there. She then saw somebody shuffle and looked down; a small chubby boy, no older than ten or eleven, stood in front of her.
"Uh, can I help you?"
"Are you Emma Swan?" the boy asked, totally ignoring her question.
"Yeah," Emma replied. "Who're you?"
"My name is Henry," he replied, licking his lips anxiously. "I'm your son!"
He pushed past her and into the apartment, Emma protesting. "Oh, hey, hey, kid, kid! I don't have a son. Where are your parents?"
He turned to her, from his position by the island in the middle of her kitchen; staring at her with alarmingly familiar eyes, he asked. "Ten years ago, did you give a baby up for adoption?" Emma looked utterly struck. "That was me."
"Give me a sec," she bleated, scrambling into her bathroom and shutting the door firmly behind her.
As she breathed heavily, leaning on the door, Henry's voice called. "Hey, do you have any juice? Never mind. Found some."
Emma emerged from the bathroom and saw Henry was drinking directly from a bottle of orange juice. He swallowed and then looked up at her. "You know, we should probably get going."
"Going where?"
"I want you to come home with me," said Henry, staring up at her with big puppy dog eyes.
"Ok, kid, I'm calling the cops," she crossed the room and picked up the phone.
"And I'll tell them you kidnapped me," he replied.
Damn, he had her there, she had to admit; closing her eyes once, she admitted. "And they'll believe you because I'm your birth mother."
"Yep!" replied Henry, popping the 'p'. By now, Emma was very sure that this boy was her son - he had his father's eyes and ears and her chin.
"You're not gonna do that," she replied; whether it was an order or a request, Emma herself didn't know.
"Try me," urged Henry.
"You're good," replied Emma, looking down to the form of Henry, who was still smiling cutely up at her. "But here's the thing - there's not a lot I'm great at in life, but I have one skill; let's call it a super power. I can tell when anyone is lying, and you, kid, are."
She dialled the numbers on the phone.
"Wait," interrupted Henry, his voice pleading. "Please don't call the cops. Please. Come home with me."
"Where is home?" Emma inquired.
"Storybrooke, Maine," replied Henry; he was waiting to see if she made the connection as to what his home town sounded like.
She did, as she asked. "Storybrooke? Seriously?"
Henry's slow nod confirmed it all.
Emma sighed. "Alrighty then, let's get you back to Storybrooke."
Smirking victoriously, Henry hopped off of the stool and followed after his birth mother.
~~~The Curse of an Imp~~~
Hand on her heavily pregnant stomach, Snow White leaned against the doorway to the balcony of their castle, which they had successfully liberated from Prince Charming's father, King George. A small blue bird flew off of her finger and disappeared into the distance.
"What's wrong?" asked Prince Charming, approaching her.
"Nothing," she replied.
"You're thinking about what the Queen said again, aren't you? Snow, please, I can't keep having this conversation - you have to let it go! We're about to have a baby."
"I haven't had a restful night since our wedding," moaned Snow, waddling to the bed.
"That's what she wants!" protested Prince Charming, following after his wife. "To get in your head, but they're only words. She can't hurt us."
Snow White stared at her husband as if he had suddenly grown an extra head. "She poisoned an apple because she thought I was prettier than her. You have no idea what she is capable of."
"What can I do to ease your worry?"
"Let me talk... to him."
"Him?" questioned Prince Charming, confused/ "You don't mean-?"
"I do."
"No, no. No, it's too dangerous," protested Prince Charming.
"He sees the future."
"There's a reason he's locked up!"
"Can you promise me our child will be safe? Can you guarantee it? Because he can."
Prince Charming turned away, thinking over his wife's request and begs. Finally, turning back to her, he nodded. "Alright. For our child."
~~~The Curse of an Imp~~~
Emma drove Henry out of Boston in her yellow Volkswagen Beetle. He stared out of the window, and then at her.
"I'm hungry," he moaned, rubbing his tubby middle. "Wanna stop somewhere?"
"This is not a road trip, we're not stopping for snacks."
"Why not?"
"Quit complaining kid. Remember, I could've put your butt on a bus; I still could!"
"You know, I have a name. it's Henry," He started to flick through the book in his lap.
"What's that?" Emma glanced, only briefly so as not to crash.
"I'm not sure you're ready," Henry's reply was a murmur. Unfortunately for him, he and Emma were in a car and she heard every word.
"Ready for some fairy tales?"
His head snapped up, almost as if offended. "They're not fairy tales," he said, looking over to her. "They're true. Every story in this book actually happened."
Emma managed to make her sigh audible so as not to offend him. "'Course they did."
"Use your super power," he urged. "See if I'm lying."
"Just because you believe something doesn't make it true."
"That's exactly what makes it true. You should know more than anyone."
"Why is that?"
"Because you're in this book."
"Oh, kid," sighed Emma. "You've got problems."
"Yep," Henry said. "And you're gonna fix 'em."
She looked from him to the road.
~~~The Curse of an Imp~~~
Rumplestiltskin lounged lazily in his cell when he heard the large metallic door of the mines clank shut. The guard leading two people towards his cell was speaking. "When we reach the cell, stay out of the light, and whatever you do, do not let him know your name. If he knows your name, he will have power over you," then he called. "Rumplestiltskin. Rumplestiltskin! I have a question for you."
Rumplestiltskin clambered down from the tree root like a monkey, swinging himself elegantly so that he was standing in front of the bars; he was a disgusting sight; brownish, reptilian scale like skin, long thickly matted hair and a leather suit.
"No, you don't," he trilled condescendingly. "They do. Snow White — and Prince Charming!" he gave an insane cackle and then his voice went deadly serious. "You insult me. Step into the light, and take off those ridiculous robes." The two slipped their robes off. "Ah, ha-ha ha... that's much better."
"We've come to ask you about the-"
"Yes, yes, I know why you're here!" Rumplestiltskin snapped, a maniacal look crossing over his face as he cut off Prince Charming and leered at them through the bars of his cell. "You want to know about the Queen's threat, though given that you've kept me imprisoned here for near enough six months, I'm not sure I should help, but beggars can't be choosers."
"Tell us what you know," commanded Snow White.
"Ohh! Tense, aren't we?" he asked, smirking through the bars. "Fear not for I can ease your mind! But i's gonna cost you something in return."
"No," commanded Prince Charming, taking Snow White protectively by the arm. "This is a waste of time."
Snow White ignored him and stepped forward, so that she was as close to the cell as she could be. "What do you want?"
"Ohm sighed Rumplestiltskin, sounding very satisfied. "The name of your unborn child?"
"Absolutely not!" exploded Prince Charming, gripping Snow White's arm even tighter.
Once again, Snow cut off her husband; she stared at Rumplestiltskin and said. "Deal. What do you know?"
"Ah," breathed Rumplestiltskin, smiling smugly in victory; he wiggled his fingers like a child who had just been given sweets as he continued. "The Queen has created a powerful curse. And it's coming. Soon you'll all be in a prison. Just like me! Only worse. Nyahaha. Your prison - all of our prisons - will be time. And time will stop. And we will be trapped, someplace horrible, where everything we hold dear, everything we love, will be ripped from us while we suffer for all eternity, while the Queen celebrates, victorious at last!" His voice, which had become rather maniacal as he had spoken, now became pouting as he finished. "...No more happy endings."
"What can we do?" inquired Snow White. Rumplestiltskin could hear the determination and fear in her voice.
"We can't do anything," he exclaimed, laughing.
"Who can?" asked Snow White. Prince Charming began to move forward.
Rumplestiltskin stretched languidly, a hand snaking its way through the bars; he stared at Snow White's stomach and then pointed at it as he said. "That little thing growing inside your belly."
Prince Charming drew his sword and slapped Rumplestiltskin's hand with it. He glared evilly at him.
"Next time," he threatened. "I cut it off."
"Tk, tk, tk, tk, tk. The infant is our only hope," said Rumplestiltskin to Prince Charming; then, his attention flicked back to Snow White, "Get the child to safety. Get the child to safety and on its- " he closed his eyes in concentration. "-twenty-eighth birthday, the child will return. The child will find you - and the final battle will begin!" an insane cackle burst free before he could even think of stopping it.
"Heard enough," said Prince Charming, pulling Snow White away. "We're leaving."
As they left Rumplestiltskin whooped and cackled; a deranged scream exploded from him and, as he shook the bars of his prison so much that dust fell from the ceiling. "Hey! No! We made a deal! I want her name! We had a deal-" he shouted. "I. Need. Her. Name! I want her name!"
"Her?" asked Prince Charming, staring over his shoulder at Rumplestiltskin. "It's a boy," he started off again, but Snow White remained frozen in position.
"Missy, missy — you know I'm right," tittered Rumplestiltskin. "Tell me. What's her name?"
Snow White closed her eyes, took a deep breath, turned and said, "Emma. Her name is Emma," and then continued walking before Prince Charming or the guard could stop her.
"Emma," breathed Rumplestiltskin; then, something struck him. "Oh, and one more thing," Snow White and Prince Charming both stopped. "If you can, would you kindly inform my maid that everything needs to be ready? Consider it the second half of our deal. I told you how to beat the Queen's curse; you've given me the name of your baby. But to honour our deal, you can tell my maid that everything needs to be ready for the next full moon."
"What needs to be ready?" inquired Snow White.
"She'll know - she's a smart girl."
~~~The Curse of an Imp~~~
Emma's yellow beetle trundled into Storybrooke. By now, it was raining very heavily, almost as if the sky was attempting to cleanse the world of everything un-pure.
"Ok, kid," began Emma. "How about an address?"
"44 not telling you street."
Emma slammed her foot on the brake. Her beetle screeched to a halt and the fact that the breaks didn't squeal indicated that she had often done that. Throwing open the door, she slammed down a leather booted foot and closed the door. Above her, she missed the fact that an electrical line sparked.
"Look, it's been a long night, and it's almost-"
By now, Henry had gotten out of the car and joined her as she stared up at the clock above the library.
"Eight fifteen?" she questioned; it had to have been later, but she had no idea of the actual time.
"That clock hasn't worked my whole life," replied Henry, as if it was common sense that every person should know. "Time's frozen here."
"'Scuse me?"
"The Evil Queen did it with her curse. She sent everyone from the Enchanted Forest here."
"Hang on, an Evil Queen sent a bunch of fairy tale characters here?"
"Yeah, and now they're trapped."
"Frozen in time, stuck in Storybrooke, Maine? That's what you're going with?"
"It's true!" protested Henry.
"Why doesn't anybody just leave?"
"They can't. If they try, bad things happen."
"Henry!" a new voice interrupted Emma and Henry's conversation. Archie Hopper, the local therapist, was approaching. Wearing brown tweed and his hair sparse with a black umbrella in one hand and a dog lead in the other, Archie was the stereotypical 1980s therapist. "Is everything alright?"
"I'm fine, Archie," replied Henry, leaning down to stroke Pongo, who wined contentedly.
"Who's this?" inquired Archie, finally noticing Emma.
"Just someone trying to give him a ride home."
"She's my Mom, Archie."
"Oh," replied Archie, rather taken aback. "I see."
"You know where he lives?" asked Emma.
Archie stuttered for a few moments, racking his brain. "Yeah, sure, just right up on Mifflin Street. The Mayor's House is the biggest one on the block."
Henry hung his head; Emma stared down at him. "You're the Mayor's kid?"
"M-Maybe," he mumbled.
"Hey, where were you today, Henry? You missed our session."
"Oh, I forgot to tell you; I went on a field trip."
"Henry," Archie leaned down, so that he and Henry were, more-or-less, face to face. "What have I told you about lying? Giving into one's dark side never accomplishes anything."
"Ooook," Emma interrupted the very awkward conversation. "Well, I really should be getting him home."
"Yeah," agreed Archie. "Well, sure; have a good night, and, uh, you be good, Henry."
When Archie had walked away and was out of hearing distance, Emma turned to Henry.
"So that's your shrink?"
"I'm not crazy."
"Didn't say that," confirmed Emma. "Just... he doesn't seem cursed to me. Maybe he's just trying to help you?"
"He's the one who needs help," noted Henry. "He just doesn't know-"
"That he's a fairy tale character?"
"None of them do," said Henry. "None of them remember who they are."
As he made his way around to the other side of the car, Emma laughed to herself.
"Convenient. Alright, I'll play. Who's he supposed to be?"
"Jiminy Cricket."
"Right, the lying thing. I thought your nose grew a little bit."
"I'm not Pinocchio!"
"'Course you're not," said Emma, sitting down into the car and closing the door behind her. "Because that would be ridiculous."
~~~The Curse of an Imp~~~
"I say we fight!" cried Prince Charming, banging his fist down onto the round table.
"Fighting is a bad idea," it was Jiminy Cricket who had spoken. Only able to speak in cricket language, he was talking to a grammar phone that was translating his speech into English and was looking up through a large magnifying glass due to being no taller than two centimetres. "Giving into one's dark side never accomplishes anything."
"And how many wars has a clear conscience won?" As Prince Charming spoke, Red Riding Hood and her grandmother, who was knitting a baby blanket, watched him closely from the other side of the table. "We need to take the Queen out before she can inflict her curse."
"Can we even trust Rumplestiltskin?" wondered Doc.
"I've sent my men into the forest," interrupted King Arthur; nineteen, flaxen haired, lithe yet muscular, he sat two places to Prince Charming's left. "The animals are abuzz with the Queen's plan. The high priestesses are abuzz with it too, isn't that right, Morgan?"
Across the table Morgan le Fay, twenty, dark haired and curvy, nodded gravely, her hands clasped on the table in front of her, her eyes closed as she attempted to read the future through the hazy fog that was blocking her vision.
"This is going to happen unless we do something," agreed Prince Charming.
"There's no point," Snow White interrupted. She stared up, determinedly, at her husband. "The future is written."
"No, I refuse to believe that. Good can't just lose."
"Maybe it can."
"No," Prince Charming crouched down to his wife's height. "No, not as long as we have each other. If you believe him about the curse, then you must believe him about our child. She will be the saviour."
The double doors burst open with an almighty bang.
"What the hell is this?"
"Our only hope of saving that child."
As four men pulled a tree on a cart into the room, the Blue Fairy floated into the middle of the table and hovered there.
"A tree?" interrupted Grumpy. "Our fate rests on a tree? Let's get back to the fighting thing."
"The tree is enchanted," trilled the Blue Fairy. "If fashioned into a vessel it can ward off any curse." Then, she turned to the old man sat to her right. "Gepetto, can you build such a thing?"
"Me and my boy," said Gepetto, ruffling the head of an eight year old boy in a bonnet who was sat by his chair. "We can do it."
"This will work," beamed the Blue Fairy. "We must have faith," as Prince Charming and Snow White linked hands, the Blue Fairy looked nervous as she continued. "There is, however, a catch. The enchantment is, indeed, powerful, but all power has it's limits. And this tree... can protect only one."
Everyone in the room knew what this meant.
~~~The Curse of an Imp~~~
"Don't take me back there!" protested Henry as Emma pulled him through the gate of 108 Mifflin Street.
"I have to," replied Emma. "I'm sure your parents are worried sick about you."
"I don't have parents, just a Mom, and she's evil!"
"Evil? That's a bit extreme, isn't it?"
"She is," Henry's voice was barely above a mumble, but Emma heard every word. "She doesn't love me, she only pretends to."
"Kid," sighed Emma, leaning down to be face to face with him. "I'm sure that's not true."
At the end of the pathway, the front door of 108 Mifflin Street opened.
"Henry?" A woman, the exact replica of a character from Henry's book, wearing a lose fitting full knee length dress and a pair of black heeled shoes, came clopping down the pathway in a run. "Henry!" she engulfed him in a hug, almost crushing him into nothingness. "Are you ok? Where have you been? What happened?"
"I found my real Mom!" Henry spat, running off into the house.
Regina Mills looked horror-struck and terrified as she turned to Emma.
"You're Henry's birth mother?"
"Hi," squeaked Emma.
"I'll just go check the lad, make sure he's alright."
Neither Regina nor Emma acknowledged the Sherriff, who had obviously been with Regina, keeping her calm during Henry's absence; British, in his late twenties or early thirties, he seemed a kind, if slightly dense, person.
"How would you like a glass of the best apple cider you ever tasted?" Regina was kind and courteous to Emma, though her smile was stretched to it's limit and obviously fake.
"Got anything stronger?"
Regina led her into the house, leaving her in the living room while she went to get two glasses from the kitchen. As Regina returned, Emma asked. "How did he find me?"
"No idea," replied Regina, pouring a glass of wine for both her and Emma. "When I adopted him he was only three weeks old. Records were sealed, I was told the birth mother didn't want to have any contact."
"You were told right."
"And the father?"
"There was one."
"Do I need to be worried about him?"
"No," replied Emma, assuredly. "He doesn't even know."
"Do I need to be worried about you, Miss Swan?" Regina handed Emma the glass of wine as she spoke.
"Absolutely not."
"Madame Mayor," the Sherriff was at the top of the stairs. "You can relax. Other than being a tired little boy, Henry's fine."
"Thank you, Sherriff," said Regina; hands on his hips, the Sherriff walked away. When he was gone, Regina turned back to Emma. "I'm sorry he dragged you out of your life. I really don't know what's gotten in to him."
"Kid's having a rough time," Emma passed Regina into her living room. "Happens."
"You have to understand, ever since I became Mayor balancing things has been tricky; my father often looks after Henry for me when I am busy," Regina reached the fireplace. A candle in an intricately designed stand stood on the mantelpiece of the fireplace along with an ornately crafted wooden clock and a picture of an aged, balding man in his sixties or seventies; a picture of an owl sat on a branch hung above them. "You have a job, I presume?"
"Uh, I keep busy, yeah."
Emma placed her half drank glass of wine onto the table.
"Imagine having another one on top of it," said Regina, settling herself opposite Emma in the other chair. "That's being a single Mom, so I push for order. Am I strict? I suppose. But, I do it for his own good. I want Henry to excel in life. I don't think that makes me evil, do you?"
"I'm sure he's just saying that because of the fairy tale thing," mused Emma, picking up her glass again.
"What fairy tale thing?"
"You know, his book," said Emma. "How he thinks everyone is a cartoon character from it. Like his shrink is Jiminy Cricket."
"I'm sorry, I really have no idea what you're talking about."
"You know what?" said Emma, sighing. "It's none of my business; he's your kid and I really should be heading back."
"'Course," said Regina, standing up quickly, almost like she had sat on a tack.
Emma finished the last of her drink and exited when Regina held the door open for her; pulling her keys out as she walked down the pathway, she turned. There, watching her from his bedroom window, was Henry.
It had begun to rain; Emma got into her car and started the engine. As she drove away and blinked to keep herself awake, Emma caught sight of something very familiar. Henry's book.
"Sneaky bastard."
Then, she saw it; right in the middle of the road was a white wolf. She gasped, slammed her foot on the brake and the beetle, failing to find grip at it's speed on the rain soaked road, skidded and, with a rather loud bang, crashed into the Welcome to Storybrooke sign, knocking Emma unconscious. As the door flopped open, the wolf howled victoriously.
In the passenger side foot well of the beetle, Henry's storybook began to flap in the wind; a page, with flying monkeys on it, flicked into a page with a hookah smoking caterpillar on it. Then, in one large gust of wind, several pages, adorned with both words and pictures, flicked revealing an image of Gepetto and Pinocchio working on the enchanted tree.
~~~The Curse of an Imp~~~
As Gepetto and Pinocchio worked on the enchanted tree in one tower, Snow White stood in the other, watching the horizon.
"I don't want to do this!" she protested, turning back to her husband, who was sat by their babies crib.
"It has to be you," said Prince Charming.
"I'm not leaving you!"
"It's the only way," he assured her, holding her against him. "You'll go in there and you'll be safe from the curse!"
"He said it would be on her twenty eighth birthday!"
"What's twenty eight years when you have eternal love? I have faith. You'll save me as I did you."
She kissed him lovingly, deeply, passionately and then, it happened. She recoiled in pain, almost bent double.
"What is it?"
"Ohh, the baby," gasped Snow White. "She's coming!"
~~~The Curse of an Imp~~~
Rumplestiltskin reclined in the branch of the tree in his cell and stared at the wall. It had been exactly two years since he had finished the curse; eleven months since his entire plan had come to fruition and now, the fact that the Dwarves had left his cell unguarded informed him of one thing. Everything was in place.
Belle was safe, he was imprisoned and had been for six months, the saviour was being born and the magic potion was where it needed to be. He reached a long clawed finger into his leather jacket, pulled out the curse and a small picture.
The Queen had been unable to sacrifice the thing she loved most - as he had predicted. Such a shame after all his tutoring. Thus, it now fell to him to cast the curse.
He stared at the picture; he'd never been able to rip off the other half of the picture for some reason, even though she was long gone - dead, by his hand, in fact. The picture of him, Bea and his wife almost shimmered in his hands and, summoning a ball of flame into one hand, he dropped the picture and the curse into the flames, lowering them to the floor.
The thing I love most, he thought, the last surviving remnant of Bae. Now gone. But, it is worth it.
The curse whirled high into the air, ripping through the bars of his cell as the purple tornado of magic grew taller and taller and wider and wider; bracing himself against the wall, he leaped into the tornado.
And, as Rumplestiltskin ceased to be and Mr. Gold replaced him, he couldn't help but let a self satisfied smirk cross his face; the last thought that crossed his mind as Rumplestiltskin was 'I'm coming Bae; I'll find you.'
~~~The Curse of an Imp~~~
Several miles away, Belle stared out of the window of the Dark Castle as the curse began engulfing the land as it came closer.
The mountain air filled her nostrils as she leaned out of the window. She braced herself as the tornado grew closer; the roof of the Dark Castle went flying into the air, followed by the curtains, Rumplestiltskin's spinning wheel and several of her books.
Everything was going accordingly to plan. The chipped cup that she had broken when she was still new at being Rumplestiltskin's maid floated by; she reached out a hand, gripped it tightly, pulled it close to her and allowed the curse to engulf her. As it did so, her dress flapped in the wind, her hair lashed around her face and she heard the prisoners in the basement scream; Belle was gone - in her place in Storybrooke would be Isabella Gold.
Strangely, this didn't feel to bad. No. In fact... it felt... good. Perfect.
~~~The Curse of an Imp~~~
Up on the battlements of the castle, Grumpy took a large gulp of his gin and then, suddenly kicked Sleepy, crying. "Wake up! Wake up!"
Sleepy gasped into consciousness and stared up at Grumpy.
"Look!" Grumpy cried, pointing into the distance. "Look!" racing to the bell, he rang it hard, "The curse! IT'S HEEEEEEEEERRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"
Arthur, who had come sprinting along the battlements at Grumpy's cry, swore to himself, "Jesu!" and was gone down the stairs in seconds, bellowing loudly to gather attention.
~~~The Curse of an Imp~~~
Emma awoke on a strange bed in what appeared to be a jail cell. In a cell opposite, someone was whistling; looking over to the person, she seemed confused.
"What're you looking at, sister?" he sneered.
Leroy was shorter haired with a buzz cut and wore a mechanics overalls.
"Hey, Leroy, manners!" scolded an elderly man who was dressed as a mechanic and was repairing the clock on the wall. "We have a guest. So," he added to Emma. "You are Henry's mother? How lovely for him to have you back in his life!"
"Actually," said Emma, clutching her head. "I was just dropping him off."
"Don't blame you," agreed Leroy. "They're all brats; who needs 'em?"
"Well," said the old man, tersely. "I'd give anything for one. My wife and I we tried, for many years, but, uh, it was no' meant to be."
"Well, cry me a river," sneered Leroy.
"Leroy," said the Sherriff, arriving. "If I'm going to let you out, you need to behave," he opened the cell. "Put on a smile and stay out of trouble."
Leroy gave him a mock smile and passed him.
"Seriously?" questioned Emma, resting her head on the bars of her cell.
"Regina's drinks," he said, smiling. "A little stronger than we thought."
"I wasn't drunk," she replied. "There was a wolf standing in the middle of the road!"
"A wolf. Right."
"Graham?" the voice of Regina came from outside the office; she seemed almost in tears as she burst in. "Henry's run away again and we have to-" she caught sight of Emma. "What's she doing here? Do you know where he is?"
"Lady, I haven't seen him since I dropped him at your house, and, I have a pretty good alibi." Emma gestured to the bars.
"Yeah, well he wasn't in his room this morning."
"Have you tried his friends?"
"He doesn't really have any. He's kind of a loner."
"Every kid has friends," noted Emma, sadly. "Did you check his computer? If he's close to someone, he'd be emailing them."
"And you know this, how?"
"Finding people is what I do. Here's an idea: how about you guys let me out and I'll help you find him?"
Back at Regina's house, Emma opened Henry's email box. It was empty.
"Smart kid," said Emma. "Cleared his inbox. But, I'm smart too. A little hard disk recovery utility I like to use."
"I'm a little more old fashioned in my techniques," admitted Graham. "Pounding on pavement, knocking on doors, that sort of thing."
"You're on a salary," said Emma as complex code came scrolling across the screen. "I'm paid for delivery. Pavement is not a luxury that I get. Huh, here's a receipt for a website 'www dot who's your momma dot org'. Its expensive. He has a credit card?"
"He's ten," noted Regina.
"Well, he used one," Emma typed on the computer. "Let's pull up a transaction record. Mary Margaret Nolan - who's Mary Margaret Nolan?"
"Henry's teacher."
~~~The Curse of an Imp~~~
At the local school, Mary Margaret Nolan walked between her class, holding a bird gently between her hands.
"As we build our bird houses remember, what it's making is a home, not a cage. The bird is free and will do what it will. This is for them, not us," Mary Margaret Nolan, the exact image of Snow White and dressed in a white woollen shirt and plain black, knee length skirt, reached the window. "They're loyal creatures," she allowed the bird to fly into the blue bird house attached to the tree outside the school. "If you love them and they love you, they will always find you."
The recess bell rang. Her students clambered to their feet and almost ran from the classroom in anticipation of recess. Mary Margaret bellowed. "We'll pick this up after recess. No running!" One of her female students offered her an apple. "Why thank you!"
Mary Margaret scooped up her bag and turned; Regina, a face like thunder, was shoving her way through the students. "Miss Mills, what are you doing here?"
Plopping her bag down onto the desk, Regina blinked at Mary Margaret, watching her body language in an attempt to see how to handle the situation. "Where is my son?"
"Henry? I assumed he was home sick with you."
Regina snapped. "Do you think I'd be here if he was!?" and Mary Margaret caught sight of Emma, stood in the doorway; Regina made nary a glance in Emma's direction, but continued. "Did you give him your credit card so he could find her?"
"I'm sorry, who are you?"
"I'm Emma, I'm his-"
"The woman who gave him up for adoption."
It was Regina who finished Emma's sentence; Emma, being a cold, hard woman herself, could hear the steel in Regina's voice, even though Regina was not talking to her.
Mary Margaret slipped her bag off of her shoulder and placed it onto the desk, pulling open the zipper. As she reached into her bag and pulled out her purse, Emma asked. "You don't know anything about this, do you?"
"No," replied Mary Margaret, flipping open her purse. "Unfortunately not," she lowered her purse, so that both Emma and Regina could see the empty slot where her credit card should have gone. "Clever boy. I should never have given him that book."
"What in the hell is this book I keep hearing about!?"
Regina was almost bellowing now, utterly furious and ready to strangle Mary Margaret.
"Just some old stories I gave him," replied Mary Margaret. Then, she continued tentatively, attempting not to offend the Mayor anymore than she already had. "As you well know, Henry is a special boy. So smart, so creative. And, as you might be aware, lonely. He needed it."
"What he needs," smiled Regina. "Is a dose of reality. This is a waste of time," she swirled around and stalked away, knocking the books off of the shelf and snapping. "Have a nice trip back to Boston!" to Emma.
Once she had gone, Emma moved to help Mary Margaret, who had begun to pick up the books. "Sorry to bother you."
"No, it's ok," Mary Margaret heaped several books into her lap. "I fear this is partially my fault."
"How's a book supposed to help?" inquired Emma, intrigued.
"What do you think stories are for?" smiled Mary Margaret, rising to her feet. "These stories are classics; there's a reason we all know them. They're a way for us to deal with our world, a world that doesn't always make sense."
Mary Margaret began to lead Emma from the classroom; as the two walked down the hall together, she continued on oblivious to Emma's discomfort. "See, Henry hasn't had the easiest life."
"Yeah, she's kind of a hard-ass."
"No, it's more than her. He's like any adopted child, he wrestles with that most basic question they all inevitably face: 'Why would anyone give me away?'" Then, her words sunk in and she realised what she had said and whom she was talking too. "I am so sorry. I am so sorry, I didn't mean in anyway to judge you."
"It's ok," mumbled Emma.
"Look, I gave the book to Henry because I wanted him to have the most important thing anyone can have. Hope. Believing in the possibility of a happy ending is a very powerful thing."
"You know where he is, don't you?"
"You might want to check his castle."
~~~The Curse of an Imp~~~
Snow White lay on the bed, bent double, legs wide and screaming loudly. Prince Charming sat by her side, one arm around her, the other clutching her hand.
"I can't have this baby now!" bellowed Snow White through another bolt of pain.
"Doc, do something!" ordered Prince Charming; Doc leaned forward and, with a moist rag, mopped her head. "It's going to be ok! The wardrobe's almost finished, just hold on!"
As Snow White gave several ear splintering cries, the door burst open; Gepetto, apron wearing and covered in saw dust, gesticulated wildly. "Quickly! It's ready!"
Prince Charming swooped down to lift up his wife, but Doc cut him off. "It's too late, we can't move her!"
"Push!" ordered Prince Charming; Snow White wrenched backwards, expelling her child into the world. Shrieking loudly, the new baby was wrapped in the knitted blanket - adorned with her name - by Doc and handed back to the happy couple.
Then, a heart wrenching thought filled Snow White's mind. "The wardrobe. It only takes one."
The sound of Queen Regina's guards entering the castle echoed throughout the massive stone building.
"Then our plan has failed," breathed Prince Charming, rubbing his wife's back comfortingly. "At least we're together."
"No," Snow White, jaw clenched in determination, spoke. "You have to take her; take the baby to the wardrobe!"
"Are you out of your mind?"
"No, it's the only way - you have to send her through!"
"No, no, no, you don't know what you're saying!" protested Prince Charming.
"No, I do!" Snow White was vehement in her remonstrance of her husband's words. "We have to believe that she'll come back for us. We have to give her her best chance."
Prince Charming kissed his daughter's forehead, Snow White whispered, "Goodbye, Emma." and then kissed her daughter's forehead too, handing her newly born offspring to her husband. Despite Emma being in between them, he leaned down and kissed Snow White passionately, before unsheathing a sword and racing into the hallway as his wife burst into tears.
Baby in his arms, Prince Charming engaged two of the guards in combat; twirling and crashing, his sword and theirs met in combat, Emma wailing loudly. One of the guards lunged and he leaned backwards to avoid it, receiving a large slash across the chest for his efforts. Knocking one of the guards to the ground, he stabbed the other through the chest. He raced the length of the hall and kicked open the wooden door to the room that contained the enchanted wardrobe. Throwing open the doors, he put down his sword and placed his baby daughter into the wardrobe.
He kissed his daughters forehead, whispered "Find us," and then slammed the double doors as his new-born daughter babbled unintelligently. Picking up his sword, he whirled around as two more of the Queen's guards burst into the room. Weapons met in combat and he managed to fight off one guard, unintentionally leaving himself vulnerable to the second guard, who stabbed him directly in the stomach.
"NOOOO!" King Arthur, bursting in from the hallway where he had been fighting another guard, brought Excalibur crashing down; the second guard whirled around, knocking him backwards through the stain glass window and allowing him to be engulfed by the curse before he hit the floor.
Eyes wide, Prince Charming slumped to the floor; the first guard flipped his sword around and began thumping on the door of the wardrobe, which promptly smashed under the force of his strikes.
The wardrobe was empty.
Emma was gone.
They had won.
A smile graced Charming's face in relief and he fell into unconsciousness.
~~~The Curse of an Imp~~~
Henry's castle, a large wooden structure sat on the Storybrooke playground near the beach, was indeed where Emma found her son as she clambered up the ladder, book in hand.
Sitting herself next to him and feeling the wind blow through her hair, she handed him the book. "You left this in my car." He took it and, moving a lock of her hair out of her face, Emma stared out across the bay; the clock tower, sat on top of the Storybrooke Library still, as it had the night before, read 8:15. "Still hasn't moved, huh?"
Henry's voice was quiet, sad and defeated. "I was hoping that when I brought you back things would change here. That the final battle would begin."
"I'm not fighting any battles, Kid."
"Yes, you are!" protested Henry, staring directly at her; there were those eyes again! "Because it's your destiny. You're gonna bring back the happy endings!"
"Can you cut it with the book crap?"
"You don't have to be hostile," Henry informed her kindly. "I know you like me; I can tell. You're just pushing me away because I make you feel guilty. It's ok - I know why you gave me away," Emma looked utterly horrified at her son's words. "You wanted to give me my best chance."
Emma looked close to tears; looking away from him and staring across the bay, she asked. "How do you know that?"
"It's the same reason Snow White gave you away."
"Listen to me, Kid," sighed Emma. "I am not in any book. I'm a real person and I'm no saviour. You were right about one thing; I wanted you to have your best chance, but it's not with me. Come on, let's go."
She hopped off of the castle, ignoring the sad look on her son's face as he cried "Please, don't take me back there!" and began running off the castle after her. "Just stay with me for one week! That's all I ask! One week and you'll see I'm not crazy!"
"I have to get you back to your Mom!" protested Emma, wheeling around to face her offspring.
"You don't understand! You don't know what it's like with her! My life sucks!"
"Oh, you want to know what sucking is!? Being left abandoned at the side of the freeway; my parents didn't even bother to drop me off at a hospital!" Emma, despite herself, had burst into floods of tears. "I ended up in the foster system; I had a family until I was three. Then they had their own kid, so they sent me back!" Composing herself and leaning down, she put herself face to face with Henry. "Look. Your Mom is trying her best. I know it's hard, and I know sometimes you think she doesn't love you... but at least she wants you."
"Your parents didn't leave you on the side of a freeway, that's just where you came through."
"What?"
"The wardrobe," stated Henry. "When you went through the wardrobe you appeared in the street. You parents were trying to save you from the curse."
"Sure they were," laughed Emma, at what she thought was Henry's attempt at cheering her up. "Come on, Henry."
And, with that, she began to lead him back to the town.
~~~The Curse of an Imp~~~
With the castle now abandoned, Snow White stumbled across the hall, clutching her stomach.
"No!" she cried, catching sight of her unconscious husband. "No. No!" She raced to his side, falling to her knees in by his head, which she took into her hands. "Please. Please, come back to me!"
She brought her head swooping down and passionately kissed him in an attempt to wake him; it didn't work. Her head swooped down again, her lips locking with his. Pulling away, she looked horrified down at her husband and failed to hear the clunking of high heeled shoes on the cobbled floor.
"Oh, don't worry dear."
For once, Queen Regina actually sounded sympathetic. Throwing down her hood, she smiled maniacally. "You won't even remember who you are. You'll be trapped in a bad marriage and an unfulfilled life and that will be my happy ending."
"Why did you do this?"
Queen Regina loomed overheard, leaning down so that her face and the face of her former-step daughter and most hated enemy in all the realms were on identical levels. "Because this is my happy ending!" Two of her guards appeared in the door. "The child?"
"Gone," Queen Regina's head snapped in their direction. "It was in the wardrobe. Then, it was gone. It's nowhere to be found."
"Where is she!?"
"She got away," Snow White, holding Prince Charming in her arms, smiled brightly. "You're going to lose. I know that now. Good will always win."
"We'll see about that," Queen Regina laughed as the curse began to rip at the castle, pulling large chunks of the roof into the air.
"Where are we going?" cried Snow White.
Victorious at last, Queen Regina replied. "Somewhere horrible. Absolutely horrible," Two windows burst open allowing the curse entrance to the castle. "A place where the only happy ending... will be mine."
The three were engulfed by the curse.
~~~The Curse of an Imp~~~
The door to 108 Mifflin Street swung open and Regina Mills, an eyebrow raised at her wayward son, stood in the doorway, her hands on her hips. Henry ran from Emma's side and passed his adoptive mother without even looking at her. She turned to watch him go up the stairs, then turned to Emma.
"Thank you."
Much to her credit she did actually sound thankful.
"No problem," replied Emma, smiling a little.
Moving onto her front doorstep, hands in her pockets, Regina continued. "He seems to have taken quiet a shine to you."
Emma chuckled. "You know what's kind of crazy? Yesterday was my birthday and, when I blew out the candle on this cupcake I bought myself, I actually made a wish that I didn't have to be alone on my birthday. And then, Henry showed up-"
"I hope there's no misunderstanding here?" questioned Regina, still on the front step.
"I'm sorry?"
"Don't mistake all of this as an invitation back into his life," Emma opened her mouth to protest, but Regina continued before she could even say a word. "Miss Swan, you made a decision ten years ago. And, in the last decade, while you've been doing - well, who knows what you've been doing? - I've changed every diaper, soothed every fever, endured every tantrum. You may have given birth to him, but he is my son!"
"I-"
"No, you don't get to speak!" Regina cut Emma off mid-sentence. "You don't get to do anything. You gave up that right when you tossed him away. Do you know what a closed adoption is? It's what you asked for. You have no legal right to Henry and you're going to be held to that! So, I suggest you get into your car," Regina eyed Emma's yellow beetle. "And you leave this town. Because, if you don't, I will destroy you, if it is the last thing I do. Goodbye, Miss Swan."
With that, Regina turned to head back into her house. When she reached the front door, Emma asked. "Do you love him?"
"Excuse me?" Regina turned back to Emma, an eyebrow raised and her voice giving away how offended she was.
"Henry. Do you love him?"
There was no emotion in Regina's voice; no love for a child that ordinary mother's had as she replied. "Of course I love him."
She slammed the door shut in Emma's face and thundered up the stairs; collecting Henry's book from his bag, she glared angrily down at the boy who had discovered the truth.
She clomped down the stairs, through the living room and to the mirror; her father looked up from his paper as she stormed past him. Taking a deep breath, Regina, in front of the mirror, lowered the book.
The title stuck her like a thorn in her side.
~~~The Curse of an Imp~~~
In the Storybrooke General Hospital, Mary Margaret Nolan wheeled a trolley along the ward, stopping at each bed to replenish the dying flowers. Reaching the end of the ward, she clicked open the door and made her way into the room that was separate from the others; while the people in the ward were still awake and alive, the men in the two beds had, according to the doctors, little chance of recovery.
Placing a vase of flowers down next to one bed, Mary Margaret leaned down a kissed the man on the cheek, picking up his hand and rubbing it; his name tag read David Nolan. He was her husband and he, along with his twin brother, James, had been involved in a terrible car crash many years back and had been in comas and on life support systems ever since.
~~~The Curse of an Imp~~~
Mr. Gold, the owner of everything in Storybrooke, watched as the blonde woman who had retrieved Henry Mills, entered the Foyer of Granny's Bed and Breakfast.
Now, normally Mr. Gold did not stand on the opposite side of the street watching women younger than his age but this woman was an exception to the rules, just like his wife. She'd only been in Storybrooke for one day and seemed very different. Not least for the fact that Storybrooke never had visitors and no-one went in or out of the town. Ever.
Now, his day had started normally enough; he had woken up embracing his wife, she had prepared breakfast, he had dropped her off at the library for her school reading group and then he had gone to collect the rent. That had been when he'd discovered that young Henry had run away from home and had returned with this mysterious woman.
He stepped across the road, blissfully ignoring his father-in-law, Moe French, who honked the horn of his van in annoyance. He pushed the door gently open; Granny's Bed and Breakfast had no bell, so he was able to slip in quietly. Pressing himself against the wall, he listened to the arguing and the voice of an elderly woman came down the stairs, followed by clumping, thudding footsteps: "You're out all night, and now you're going out again."
The owner, known to everyone as Granny - about sixty, her hair up in a bun and just beginning to show her age - and her granddaughter, Ruby - no more than twenty, attractive, slim, alarmingly slutty with red streaks in her hair and not afraid to use her assets - appeared at the bottom of the stairs.
"I should've moved to Boston!" bemoaned Ruby, gesticulating wildly as she fumed angrily at her grandmother.
"I'm sorry that my heart attack interfered with your plans to sleep your way down the Eastern Seaboard!" snapped her grandmother in reply.
The blonde woman, who had been trying to interrupt for a while, now took her chance to interrupt the squabbling women: "'Scuse me? I'd like a room?
Granny's eyes widened and bulged and Ruby gaped at the woman.
"Really?" breathed Granny; the blonde woman nodded and the elderly woman fished through the drawer, pulling out a dusty old ledger. As she thumped it onto the desk, dust filled the room, sending all the women coughing. Waving the dust aside and flicking through the ledger, Granny slipped her glasses onto her face and asked. "Would you like a forest view or a square view? Normally there's an upgrade fee for the square, but as the rent is due, I'll wave it."
"Square is fine," stated the woman.
"Now," began Granny, blinking over her half moon spectacles at the woman. "What's the name?
"Swan," said the woman. "Emma Swan."
His head thundered and what felt like lightning surged through his brain. Memories of his past life as Rumplestiltskin – the loss of his son, the butchering of his wife by his hand, his love with the elegant yet haughty woman, and his current love with Belle to name a few – came shooting back into his head; he was not Mr. Gold. No. He... was Rumplestiltskin.
He stepped out of the shadows at the end of the room and eyed the woman once over; her mother's nose and chin her father's determined look. He smiled; it was one of his familiar looks that only people who knew him – or remembered that they knew him in the case of most of the town – could see through. Belle, though, never fell for it, even under the curse as Isabella.
"Emma..." he said. "What a lovely name."
Granny and Ruby froze in abject horror. The blonde woman looked, almost confusedly, at him; she was sizing him up. Then, almost as if seeing him as anything but a threat, she smiled graciously and said. "Thanks."
Granny opened the drawer with a small, wooden clunk and pulled out a wad of cash, all rolled up into a ball. Handing it to him, her voice quivered as she said. "It's all here."
Mr. Gold didn't even count it as he took it with one long elegant hand and slipped it into his jacket pocket; he knew, under the terms of the curse, that it would always be the correct amount. "Yes, yes, of course it is, dear. Thank you," He smiled to Emma, and as he spoke, he placed particular emphasis on her name. "You enjoy your stay, Emma."
Then, he left, lingering long enough to hear Emma – the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming and the woman who would break his curse – ask, "Who's that?"
He saw the curtain move, as Ruby shifted the curtain back to watch him; then, he heard her reply to Emma. "Mr. Gold. He owns this place."
"The inn?" he heard Emma ask.
"No," replied Granny, severely. "The town,"; her voice turned kind and caring again. "So! How long will you be with us?"
"A week," replied Emma. "Just a week."
"Great," he heard Granny say. He could imagine her handing Emma the exact key – an old fashioned one with a swan on it; Belle's ironic idea to annoy Regina without Regina even knowing it – that had been created by the curse. Nonetheless, he head Granny say. "Welcome to Storybrooke."
And, smiling to himself, he turned on his heels and hobbled off home; it was time to waken his darling Belle. They had work to do, and if he was going to succeed, then he wanted his Belle by his side and not some fake cursed persona created to cover their tracks.
Above him, the clock tower clunked into life, the hand sliding from 8:15pm to 8:16pm. He stopped and shared a smile with Henry, who was beaming out of the upstairs window of 108 Mifflin Street.
As he resumed walking, he couldn't help but muse to himself. Things were progressing as planned.
Exactly as planned.
~~~The Curse of an Imp~~~
Isabella Gold sat on the kitchen work surface and watched her husband prepare dinner; she had long brown hair, a pleasing figure and a kind, smiling face. Just like her counterpart of Belle, Isabella was a bookworm underneath the kind exterior. There was nothing she loved more than curling up on the sofa, or in bed with her husband, and reading a good book. Her husband was more than willing to oblige her.
The kitchen was quiet - only the rhythmic sound of her husband chopping up onions filled the room; the silence wasn't awkward, merely familiar. Neither Golds' were loud, so the quiet suited them well.
Isabella adjusted her hair in front of her eyes, flicked the page in her book and without even lowering it, asked. "So, Henry's back where he belongs?"
"Well," said her husband. "He's back - not necessarily where he belongs, but back nonetheless."
"Mmm," Isabella grunted her approval over the top of a book. "And who found him?"
"His mother," came the fluid, almost watery, reply of her husband.
That made Isabella lower her book. She asked, "Regina left town?"
"No, no, dear," smiled Mr. Gold, indulgently. Belle may have been a bookworm as her Storybrooke Counterpart of Isabella, but she could also be a little airheaded too. "Henry's biological mother - the woman who gave him up for adoption ten years ago - Emma Swan. It will be the picture of true love, I can assure you of that."
"Lovely," said Isabella; she hadn't noticed that her husband had stopped chopping onions. Seconds later it happened; Isabella slumped forward, sliding off of the kitchen work surface and into the waiting arms of her husband.
Her body glowed blue - a bright shocking blue that had never graced Storybrooke before - and her dark eyes flickered open; she stared up at Mr. Gold, then sat up, her hair flicking out behind her.
She turned to him, anxiously, carefully, and got as close to him as she dared to. Her voice stuttering with hope, she asked. "R-Rumplestiltskin?"
"Hello, dearie," came the gratingly familiar, yet no less loving, reply of her lover, "Welcome back, Belle."
"Isabella," she corrected. "I mean - Belle - I think? Two sets of memories."
"You'll adjust, Belle," he said, helping her up. "You'll adjust soon enough."
"So..." Isabella broke the silence. "The curse worked? This is the land your son went too?"
"Yes," he assured her, holding her close. "Now all we have to do is wait for Miss Swan to believe. This will involve undermining Regina at nearly every opportunity - are you in?"
"As long as it is only to get your son back."
"It is, Belle," he smiled. "I think this is going to be fun - come along! We have work to do!"
To be continued.